


Heaven Cannot Wait

by lesbiansamstiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Heaven, Hurt Sam Winchester, Literal Sleeping Together, Other, Pining, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, dean negative
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 04:04:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21469777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbiansamstiel/pseuds/lesbiansamstiel
Summary: Castiel needs help. Sam must take a trip to his own personal heaven to look for Joshua and find answers in order for Castiel to continue finding God.
Relationships: Castiel/Sam Winchester
Comments: 12
Kudos: 20





	1. Nothing's Real

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of an AU for 5x16 (The Dark Side of The Moon) but because my memory isn't flawless there will be some errors, don't have high exceptations on that. Also it will eventually have a time jump to season 9 or a second part in the same storyverse!
> 
> So yeah, obviously it's gonna be heavily Cas x Sam, but also kind of Dean negative. Very gay and emotional. I use every pronouns for Cas here dont mind that, there might be a logic to it but I also might slip sometimes... I view them both as nonbinary lesbians but that isn't something that's discussed in this fic so I labeled it as other because I don't know how anything works...
> 
> The titles of the chapters are song references because I'm tacky and gay.

Sam. Ashtabula, Ohio, 2009

He turns the Impala's radio on and takes another left turn, towards the beach. It's been a long while since Dean first gave him the keys of the car, after the talk they had about trying to be "more equal", whatever that meant. Since then, Sam has enjoyed being able to drive around and clear his mind from the job, and the hassle, and, well, Dean. Since the whole thing with Lucifer being freed, it has not really been easy living with Dean and having to bear the guilt of the world ending, as ridiculous as it sounds. Actually, the only good thing to happen recently has been the permission to drive the Impala and get away, on the excuse of doing research, going shopping, or meeting with local hunters for more details on the job at hand. Sam takes the car, buys Dean something to eat from any gas station close by, and drives until it gets dark. Then he parks the car somewhere peaceful and sits there, listening to music (but never classic rock), or in silence.

Now he's parked in the parking lot near a tiny beach. The moon is almost full, and the parking lot is dimly lit with street lamps. He's wearing a winter jacket, but the car is nicely warm after the drive, so he takes it off and throws it on the passenger seat. He has not had time to think about normal everyday regular life things in so long, because they barely even live anymore. Yet, somehow, when he just sits in the car and lets his brain choose the thoughts, he ends up thinking about normal things, like the increasing price of gas, his old friends and how they're doing, the state of Dean and his laundry pile back at the motel, all the little things of regular life he needs to take care of before hitting the next case.

But his everyday life is more than those things. Here, alone, in silence, he can think about the other stuff too, without feeling the weight of it all. More often than not, when he takes time off to drive, Sam thinks about the angels, and Ruby, even Jess, even their parents. He wonders if God really is real, and out there, and if Cas will be able to find them. Sam misses Cas when the angel is not around, he has this weird anxiety about Cas being gone some morning, for good. Sam wants Cas to know how much he thinks about them, how much Cas helps him and Dean, more than just with his powers. That stupid trench coat brings them hope. At least to Sam, since Sam can't say for Dean, who seems to have given up all of his hope. Sam has all the pressure, making sure he never shows Dean how much Sam fears, how weak he is. He wonders if Cas, and the other angels, can see how weak Sam is. If they can tap into his thoughts at any moment and just see how much sadness and misery he holds, that any moment he could snap and give up the fight.

Sam won't do it, though. He's meant to fight this fight, till the end, even if it kills him. Sometimes when he goes on these drives, he cries thinking of it all.  
Sometimes when he does, he hopes Cas would be there when he opens his eyes.

That seems to only happen to Dean, though. And it’s not like Cas would know where Sam is right now, because of the Enochian sigils. Sam opens his eyes slowly and turns the radio off. No one else in the car, or outside of it. His limbs are getting tired and his eyes feel heavier and heavier. He rolls down the window to let in some fresh air and the sounds of the waves and the wind come with. When he places his head back against the seat and takes a long breath in he gets goosebumps on his arms. It’s a weird feeling, drifting away in a familiar car, at a strange beach, in the dark. The impala is more than just a familiar car, it feels more like home to Sam than anything else does. Falling asleep in this car is more familiar than falling asleep anywhere else. The sound of the waves, crashing in and out, the wind humming in the air, the cool autumn air, lull Sam fast to sleep. 

When he next wakes up, he is shivering all over. It takes half a second to realize why, with the breeze coming from the window, so he rolls the window back up and takes his jacket from the passenger seat and onto his lap and covers himself with it. Sam yawns again and looks at the clock on the dash. It’s two AM. He had left the motel at midnight. Dean is probably asleep by now, so he’s not in any hurry. He ends up just sitting there for a while, with his mind black. Eventually he takes his phone out of his jeans’ front pocket to check for messages, just in case. Three notifications, one message from Dean, one call from Dean and one call from Cas. Sam reads the message, it says to come back to the motel, sits up straight and pulls the jacket on. He’s not panicking, but he’s not calm, either. He turns the keys in the ignition switch and backs away from the parking lot. He drives fast, but not quite as fast as he could, and tries to keep calm. Why had Cas called?

Sometimes when Sam is alone, his brain goes fuzzy, like he’s resetting from his social-Sam back into himself, his brain not quite making sense in words, his thoughts kind of blurry, memories hazy. Being alone is truly freeing, but it’s also sad and lonely. He tries not to like it too much, because being lonely is his way of punishing himself, too, and liking it would mean he wants to punish himself, to make himself miserable. So he tries to keep himself social, talk to people, think of people, spend time with Dean outside of the jobs, try to remember that he is worthy of love and appreciation. He tries really hard to be loved, so that he doesn’t forget that he deserves it, too. Dean rarely shows his appreciation. Not with words or affection, anyway. Dean has probably saved Sam’s ass more times than he has in any way signaled that he doesn’t hate to spend time with him. Sam does try to be “touchy-feely” but Dean won’t let him. He turns it into a joke, tries to silence Sam with hurtful truths, anything to stop feelings from happening. In fact, Dean’s feelings are so repressed Sam sometimes wonders if Dean has feelings at all. But Sam tries to understand, after all, Dean is an innocent man who was in Hell for what felt like 40 years. And from what Sam understands, he even remembers it all. Sam tires himself imagining how hell must’ve been, trying to find anything to say to help, comparisons to draw to make himself understand Dean. Sam tries to imagine Dean as a war veteran who was on the battlefield for 40 years, but somehow, even that doesn’t quite compare. Sam often wonders about how Cas saved Dean, tries to imagine how a soul is grabbed from literal Hell and raised to a body quite like the original thing but without the scars. How does Cas have that power, when not a single demon Sam killed seemed to think it was possible? And why do it? And why was it Cas? And who gave the order?

After a 10-minute drive Sam comes to the center of town and there is a big knot in his belly. The night is too ominous, too dark and yet too calm to make sense of and Sam doesn’t like it. The straight road continues for too long and Sam feels helpless. There is so much fear and anxiety in his life he can barely contain it. Sam’s mind is fuzzy with nothing but the words “please be okay, please be okay, please be okay”. 

The motel is around the corner, and its cheap neon lights are reflected on the wet asphalt. Sam parks the car swiftly in front of their room and hurries out of it. His back and legs are sore from sitting for so long and he feels like he’s getting old too fast. The room number is 12, the door yellow. Sam doesn’t have keys, but the door is unlocked. 

He marches in and sees Dean and Cas sitting on the two beds, silent, Dean looking uncomfortable, Cas staring at the wall. They both look at him, and Dean looks tired.

“What is it?” Sam lets out a big breath of air and puts the car keys on the table next to the door.

“Where were you?” Dean says with no change in expression.

“Just, out” Sam points to the general direction of the beach with his head.

“Well, Cas here,” Dean looks at Cas, “found something.”

Cas looks at Sam with a regular expression, not the frowny one, and Sam is relieved. 

“Oh?” Sam says and rips the jacket off himself. The motel room is way too warm. 

Cas sits silently, looking deep in thought, and Dean stands up from the bed, and walks to the other corner of the room. Then he walks back. 

“Cas? Please share with the rest of the class,” Dean sounds annoyed and sits on the couch that is on the opposite wall from the door. 

Cas looks at Dean and then Sam. He seems worried… or anxious.

“I’m going to find God,” Cas begins and looks at Sam, “and I will need your help.”

“Of course, but I don’t think there’s much we can do-”

“Not us, Sam. You,” Dean says, frustrated. 

“I’m taking you to heaven, Sam,” Cas says, “to find Joshua.”

Sam is lost for words.


	2. flyin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas x Sam visiting heaven. Mentions of Jess. Dean is just kinda there. Mentions of John also. Idk what else to warn u of hmm… Title is a reference to a shura song like the first chapter's, check them out!

When Cas rolls the sleeves of their stupid beige trench coat (that has been burned to Sam’s retinas so much that whenever he sees a trench coat, anywhere, his first thought, or feeling, is Cas) Sam’s first instinct is to take a step back. He is not sure about their plan, but he wants to help Cas. Apparently, Cas can tap into Sam’s soul by touching it and follow him to heaven. As he dies, or goes to a life and death between zone, or something. Cas’ powers aren’t fully there yet, and he’s not allowed in heaven, so they’re a little unsure about how this will go. Taking Dean would be like taking a time bomb, because all the angels, especially Zachariah, have their radars beeping for him. Sam is secure with Cas, as long as he does not actually die, and can be zapped back to his body. But that’s what worries him. And how does he just leave Heaven? He can barely wake up from his dreams anymore. 

“So, there’s no way of contacting you when you’re... up there?” Dean looks uncertain, and not amused.

“No.” Cas says bluntly.

“That’s just great! I’m on watch-duty and can’t even alert you if something goes wrong! I don’t like this plan, Cas.”

“No one likes it” Sam chimes in, but with less opposition.

“You agreed to this. It’s the only way, if there’s any chance this could bring us closer to God, ending all of this,” Cas looks at Sam, “killing Lucifer, we have to take these odds”.

Before Sam has the chance to say anything Cas continues:

“This is my only choice. Please,” Cas pleads, “please help me”.

Sam sighs and curses the day Cas became good with words. And the damn puppy eyes. He’s going to throw himself to a death-like between-zone that could kill him because of Cas’ recklessly ambitious plan to find God. 

In the background, Dean sits down on the bed defeatedly and rubs his temples. In all of this, Dean has not said a word to Sam. It makes Sam a little upset. Dean acts as if he’s not a part of this, even when “this” is Sam’s life.

“I want to help, of course, but promise me you’re being a realist thinking I can survive this.” Sam looks at Cas, who is just standing there, not moving at all.

“I’m not letting you die,” Cas confirms, and Sam thinks this is the best answer he’s getting and puts a tiny smile on his face. Dean sighs in the back and stands up. He starts pacing the room again.

Cas motions Sam to sit on the couch and takes the belt that he removed earlier from the table. 

“Okay, I guess we’re going to heaven” Sam declares. 

“Tell me all about it soon, Sam.” Dean says from closer behind Cas now and Sam can hear that he’s worried. Sam smiles and nods. 

The next thing Sam feels is Cas’ fingers on his forehead as he puts him to sleep-ish.

The worst part about dreaming is how it makes you want to never wake up. There’s no plan, no pressure, no Lucifer, no Michael. Sam’s dreams are often just calmness. Sometimes there’s a plot, or some people, sometimes they’re even based on memories but mostly it’s just a snippet of heaven, or what he thinks heaven is like, anyways. Calm. The feeling of sitting on a bus, car, plane as the word goes by. The sounds of the ocean. Sitting on a dock, or lying in the grass looking at the night sky. Just being still. Sometimes Sam dreams of a family, his family, Mary and John and a happy big brother playing with toy cars. Sam is a fly on the ceiling, looking at all of the everyday life go by. Sometimes, rarely, he has a family of his own, a partner, dogs, maybe even a child. Lying in bed next to a person whom he adores and life goes by without pain, just happiness and so much love that it makes the heart hurt. Often Sam doesn’t have an active role in his dreams but when he does, he’s dancing, or jumping from joy and he has a strong sense of self and braided hair and he kisses someone he loves and they love him back. He feels in control and he can decide who he is and what he does. Sometimes dreaming is an escape, but more often dreaming feels like the bigger life and everything else is the blurry background. Dreaming isn’t always something you do when you’re asleep, sometimes he dreams when he’s eating, reading, or just lying awake in bed. He learnt it as a kid, spent way too much time like that in class and when lectured by John, or Dean, for that matter. 

Heaven wasn’t like that. Heaven turned out to be better. In heaven, his daily, everyday life was the main subject and all his best moments were just playing out one after another. Like the time Dean and he spent time watching cartoons all day and eating nothing but burned toast all day, but somehow it felt like the best day ever. That year he was at the nicest school and he had friends and John wasn’t home a lot, but Dean was old enough to drive them to school and back and Sam trusted him and admired him. And life felt good. The same year they went to that one meadow one night, with a bag full of fireworks and Sam set them off and they were loud and pretty, and it was all so big. And then when he met his first crush. That was a confusing time, but he was so happy whenever she looked at her during classes or passed by in the cafeteria. Or when they were in that group assignment together and Sam got to talk to her. 

Heaven was better than dreaming, because it was living. He was reliving all his best hits and his heart was filled with joy and love. He wanted to stay so badly he forgot what the plan had been, and just floated in heaven, in those memories. Until he got to Jess. Meeting Jess. It shocked him and made him realize his heart had not recovered from all that.  
The promise of happiness shattered. Heaven shattered.

Heaven crumbles down and Sam sees Cas in front of him. They look at each other, Sam with tears in his eyes, and Cas looking apologetic.

“I’m so sorry, Sam,” they say, and take Sam by the hand, “we have to move on.”

Sam feels something like wind blow past him and suddenly they’re standing on a ledge, with the ocean underneath, loud as a chainsaw, humming and roaring. Cas is yelling but Sam can’t hear. He’s too overwhelmed. Everything hurts and his heart is breaking. He can still smell Jess, like she smelled when they first met and her first words to him keep playing in his mind.

He wants to go back to Jess, to hold her, to tell her he loves her, to kiss her. 

Cas keeps yelling and motioning at him and shaking him. Sam looks at Cas and sees the panic in their eyes. The ocean quiets down underneath, and Cas’ voice comes through the noise.

“Sam! Please! You have to listen to me”

“Cas?” Sam feels out of place and numb and like this was a mistake. How will they ever get out?

“Sam. Listen. You drifted, I could not reach you, we’ve wasted time. My grip on your soul almost slipped, you wanted to go, please don’t do that again,” Cas looks terrified. 

Sam feels like falling down and crying. All he can think about is Jess, and all the people he loved and lost. How much more can he bear? Cas takes a grip on his shoulders and presses his thumbs against his collar bones. 

“Focus on my voice. We have to keep going. Do you know which way to go from here?”

“What? I… I don’t even know where we are,” Sam looks around and it does not look familiar, at all. Has he ever even been on a ledge?

“It could not be a place where you’ve been, it can be a feeling or an image, even a sound?”

“A feeling?”

Suddenly Sam recognizes it. This is how he feels when he thinks of Jess, lonely, alone, crushed and distant from everything. As he realizes this, the world turns, and fades and twists at the same time. 

It doesn’t take long before they end up in the next place. It’s the impala, parked. It’s quiet, only some birds chirping. The sun is painting the horizon orange and red and purple. It’s early spring and outside looks cold but it’s warm and toasty in the car. Sam knows what this is. Cas is sitting in the backseat and talking. Sam can’t hear him again, but he starts the car, intuitively. 

They have to get out of here.


	3. Kissavideoita

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is flashbacks (in past tense) and then the short snipper of the heaven in between. The title is a reference to a song (by Ville Galle) that I have been listening all day, it's ridiculous and I love it and I'm gonna make a teenager AU for Sastiel based on it one day… yeah… ANYWAYS... here's chapter 3!

Sam remembers that specific night, the sunset, the parking lot, the weather. That night Sam was praying for Castiel to show up, to answer, to help them, to help Sam. Sam was aching for someone to see him and talk to him and talk him down from this intense feeling of hopelessness he had. Dean was not there, they were separated, and Sam now knew that he was meant to become Lucifer’s vessel, that he was the True Vessel, and he was so alone, and helpless. He felt like he was to blame for the whole Michael-Lucifer-war plan, on top of feeling guilty for letting Lucifer out from the cage in the first place. So much guilt. It was all on his shoulders, and he felt like he could never be forgiven. He didn’t think he deserved to be.

But then Castiel showed up. 

“Hello, Sam,” Cas said in a familiar tone while sitting on the passenger’s seat, like he had been sitting there for a longer time than two seconds, his hands resting against his legs. Sam gathered his thoughts and turned his shoulders to Cas’ direction, looking at his jacket’s collar, which was folded strangely. He had an urge to straighten it but kept himself from doing that.

In this moment he couldn’t say anything. He was just wondering how it was possible that Cas had such a calming aura that all his worries felt so far away in this car, in this moment. For a while they didn’t speak, like there was a silent agreement that this was best for both of them, this comfortable silence. Sam turned to look out from the window on his side, at the sunset, and surprised himself by admiring it. The colors were wonderful. It was warm in the car and the sky looked like it was burning, and his tense shoulders started to relax a bit. 

Then Cas took a sharp inhale and opened his mouth, still looking at Sam.

“I felt your calls. You seemed desperate,” Cas said, calmly. He sounded worried or confused. Sam realized he hasn’t said a thing to Cas this whole time.

Sam swallowed and looked at Cas again.

“I, uh,” he begun, “I was- am desperate.” Sam was struggling to explain why exactly he wanted Cas to come. What exactly did he want?

“I understand. I heard you are Lucifer’s true vessel. And Dean is not here,” Cas’ eyes drill into Sam’s in an what-would-be-uncomfortable -way if it were anyone else, “you feel lonely, Sam.”

Sam nodded and swallowed again, his mouth going dry simultaneously, and his throat hurting. “I will not cry,” he told to himself.

“What can I do?” Cas asked.

“Just, sit here, for a while. It helps,” Sam said, looking out of the window again, staring at the changing colors. 

His throat was pulsing and head hurting. He pushed the tears back, “I will not cry”. For a while it was quiet, and he managed to stop the tears.

He heard Cas moving, and turned to look, hoping that he wasn’t leaving. The angel had taken a more comfortable position, leaning his head back against the seat and looking at Sam with weary eyes. Sam wanted to look at the sunset, he did not want to miss those incredible colors, but looking at Cas was even better. Sam turned the seat-warmer off, because he noticed the need to remove his jacket, and then leaned his head against the seat, as well. 

“Does this help?” Cas echoed Sam’s words while examining Sam’s face. 

Sam nodded. It really did.

\-------------------------

Sam cannot show this memory to Cas, but it seems that wherever he drives, they end up in that same parking lot. 

“Why are you running from that memory?” Cas asks from the back, holding on to the back of the driver’s seat.

“We need to move on,” Sam blurts out and wonders how any of this is actually happening, why are they in heaven and why did that memory make it to his.

“No, Sam, you’re overwhelmed, you need to calm down,” Cas is rising their voice a bit, sounding sterner than before. Sam knows that he needs to calm down, they need to find Joshua, which requires leaving his heaven, but he can’t calm down because he really, really, doesn’t want Cas to know that that moment in time made it into his literal heaven.

“I will calm down somewhere else. Can you help me leave this place?”

“I,” Cas says sternly, “can’t do anything here, Sam.”

Sam feels frustrated, but he knows this is irrational, Cas is most likely not going to bring that moment up afterwards or judge his heaven. But it feels too personal, letting them know this out of all things is a part of his heaven. 

“Sam, you need to let it play out, whatever it is, or we won’t be able to find an exit from your heaven. Follow the road, for now, and your mind will take you where you need to go”.

Sam nods to himself, feeling defeated. Castiel is the heaven expert, after all, there’s no avoiding this. He prays that seeing this memory won’t bring up any awkward conversation later. And on the side, he thanks god for Dean not being here.

Then he drives to the parking lot, for the last time, and this time, he lets the memory play out like it happened.

\-------------------------

They had been sitting for a while, Sam had turned the seat warmer back on and Cas had changed position so that his legs were closer to the middle of the car, knees pressed together. Sometimes he closed his eyes for a bit and Sam wondered what was on his mind. He felt like asking how things were, but he didn’t want this calmness to end. When Cas was around, Sam’s thoughts never, not once, wandered back to the agonizing guilt and anxiety like they did all the time when he was alone. He felt safe. That was Cas’ aura, or just his effect on Sam, specifically. 

Sam’s thoughts did wander, though, but into a different sphere completely. He thought about Cas’ past and his relationships to people and other angels, and his family. Cas’ never-ending hope and faith. He thought about how Cas was an actual angel, with wings, and powers, and probably a halo, and his own language (that now was connected to Sam too, because it was written on his ribs), too. He thought about how he felt so much better as soon as he saw Cas, and heard his voice, which was actually not his voice, but Jimmy Novak’s voice. The way Cas talked was his own, though, Jimmy had sounded completely different, walked different, even smelled different. Sam wondered how could that be? Does a soul - or whatever angels are or have - have a scent? Sam thought about how he wanted to see what Cas really looked like, if he even was anything physical, he wondered if he could ever really hear Cas’ voice. He wondered if angels could read minds, as they could read dreams, or… go inside dreams, maybe they could go inside people’s minds... Then he realized, this might be a dream and had the urge to pinch himself. It was not a dream.

“Why did you come now? I’ve called you many times before… why now?” Sam asked suddenly, thinking out loud.

Cas turned to look at Sam again, frowning a little, and answered: “I haven’t heard you before. Now, I felt like you were in trouble. I wouldn’t ignore your calls, Sam.”

“Oh,” Sam said, “But I wasn’t… in trouble.”

“I see that now,” Cas rubbed his knee with his hand, “maybe you were about to be.”

Sam blinked slowly. Was he about to be in trouble? Maybe it was possible? He could’ve been in trouble if Cas hadn’t showed up.

“Thanks. For coming. It helped.”

“I don’t see how I’m helping, but I’m always here for you Sam.”

Sam felt a bad itch to take Cas by the hand, and it surprised him. His arm twisted and stomach turned. 

“Uh, thank you, Cas. Really, I-”

“Sam, I do have a question,” Cas interrupted him suddenly and Sam was thankful, because he didn’t know where that sentence was going to end.

“Yeah?”

“Did you ever consider taking the offer?” Cas said “the offer” quietly, almost whispering. Sam stayed silent for a bit too long, because he didn’t want to think about this whole thing, but the answer was clear.

“No.” Sam looked Cas in the eyes, and felt his answer coming true as he said it.

“Good.”

A brief silence subsided in the car.

Cas inhaled and exhaled deeply and then said that Dean was considering the offer.

“Yeah, I could tell. He won’t do it, though.” Sam tried to reassure himself, mostly. Cas nodded and they looked at each other for a while longer. 

Sam thought about heading back to the motel. Cas looked away and felt tenser again.

“I admire you, Sam,” Cas said quietly, looking out from the windscreen.

Sam was taken aback by that, his stomach twisting and turning again. 

“You’re strong, and brave. There’s not many people like you,” Cas continued, now briefly looking at Sam and looking back outside again. The sun had set, only the leftover light left. It would be dark soon.

“Thank you. I feel weak and scared. But thank you,” Sam said, smiling at Cas. Cas looked at him, looking almost shocked.

“What do you fear?” Cas asked genuinely.

“Everything. Myself, the plan-”

“Yourself?” Cas’ voice was so soft and caring that Sam’s insides were bouncing around again.

“Yeah, Cas. I guess I’ve always felt a bit scared of myself.” 

Sam was looking at that strange collar again and now reached his hand out to fix it. It was folded under Cas’ jacket so he pulled it out and folded it neatly on the outside of it. Cas reached to touch Sam’s hand and held their hands up against his neck for a while and said:

“You are not someone to fear. I have never seen anything but kindness in you.”

They looked at each other for a moment, that felt like a forever, and Sam was holding Cas’ jacket’s collar and Cas was holding Sam’s hand carefully. Sam looked at their hands and back at Cas’ face, and back at their hands. He didn’t realise he hadn’t replied, that Cas was probably waiting for a reply.

Then Cas lowered his hand and Sam was left holding onto his collar, until he let go and straightened his own sleeve. Sam coughed awkwardly and said:

“Thanks Cas. I, uh, I should-”

“You should sleep, Sam. Get some rest,” Cas interrupted him and turned to look outside again.

“Yeah. Thanks again. For hanging out,” Sam confirms and nods a few times. 

He feels like he’s been punched to the gut and he wants to say more, to hang out more but it’s probably better this way, he’s getting too many emotions, he’s confused and tired and so lonely. So lonely.

“I’m always here for you, and you can call me on the mobile device, as well,” Cas said before looking at Sam for the last goodbye-look and disappearing. 

Sam was left alone in the car and suddenly it felt so cold. But he still felt the touch of the angel on his hand.


	4. Starlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a mess originally because I wrote it in like three minutes and it was nothing but dialogue but I edited it now and here it is! Title is ironic, reference to this one moomin song by ALMA because I’ve been reading a moomin book lately.

When they reach the next stop on the route to finding an exit from Sam’s heaven, Cas stops Sam near a tall tree and grabs him by the arm. Sam feels a little twist in his chest. 

“We don’t have much time.” Cas says, out of breath. 

Sam feels relieved and worried at the same time, because hey, at least Cas didn’t bring up the previous memory, but oh no, Cas looks bad. This whole tagging-along-to-heaven -business could be draining Cas’ powers worse than they imagined. And to make matters worse, they had no idea how long they’d been here. Time works very differently in heaven, apparently.

“Are you okay?” Sam asks. Cas lets go of his arm.

“I’m running out of power. We will have to get back soon.” Their eyes look red, like someone’s who’s been crying. 

They have been running in a forest of some vague memory from Sam’s childhood for a while now. Sam doesn’t recognize the memory, but he has a similar feeling of déjà vu as in some of the others. Sam feels a bit guilty for having such a labyrinth of a heaven. He sighs.

“Let’s just get out of this forest. Any helpful ideas what the exit could look like?” Sam’s words come out harsher than he means. He’s tired too.

Cas shakes his head, beaten, and they keep running. Sam feels like giving up, but fights through it, thinking about how he’s doing this for Cas. This was so important to them, Sam knows perfectly well how important; finding the father who’s disappeared, even if it all turns out to be bullshit. It was a familiar quest for him. They need to at least try their best.  
So, they run and run and keep running, even though Cas looks more tired than Sam has ever seen them. They don’t stop running until they come up to a bright light.

“Should we go into the light?” Sam asks, his eyes blinded by the light.

“Sam, wait,” Cas says weakly, his breathing shaky and uneven. Sam’s heart is breaking, seeing Cas like this.

“Yeah?”

“When we go,” Cas begins and turns to look at Sam’s direction, their eyes hurting from the light, too, “I cannot talk to him, he won’t see me. Look for The Garden, and think of his name, and remember that we have to return soon”. 

Sam nods at Cas and at the same time curses the plan in his mind. But it’s the best plan they have for now, and so he lets the light surround them, and thinks of Joshua and the garden as hard as he can. 

In the next instant, they open their eyes inside a big, white, round hall. The glass ceiling is high, like the room was made for giants. Above, there are a million tiny bright lights, but not quite stars, they move too quickly, and new ones turn on as quickly as others turn off. There are tall doors at the sides of the hall, tens of them, maybe more. Sam chooses one, by random, walks up to it, and pulls it. It’s heavy and makes a loud rumbling sound as it opens. Behind it, there is another hall, with the same ceiling, and more doors. Sam backs away and looks at Cas, who is leaning against a wall, looking around as confusedly as Sam.

“I doubt this is a memory of yours?” Cas says and their voice echoes in the huge room.

“Yeah, this is… something else. You don’t recognize it?” Sam is in awe by everything he looks at.

He walks up to Cas and offers a hand for them to take as support. Cas holds on to his arm, stands up properly, and they take a few steps to reach the next door.

“I have never been in a place like this before. Maybe it’s your soul’s way of seeing heaven. That would mean we are out of yours,” Cas speaks quietly.

“That’s good right? So how do we fi-” Sam is interrupted by a loud crash from behind them.

He turns to look to where the sound came from. Cas has disappeared from beside him. One door has opened in the direction of the sound, and Sam walks towards it and notices the door has been ripped out from the frame. He walks in to a room that looks empty, but as he gets there, it’s suddenly not a room anymore. 

It’s an endless jungle-like place, and he’s standing in moss and there are birds singing and chirping in every direction. He’s yelling the name of Joshua, without realizing it, and his voice gets lost in all the noises of the jungle. When he turns around to see where the door was, there is a desk, and a man sitting behind it. A man with huge angel wings that are there and aren’t there at the same time. He is looking at Sam, with a smile on his face.

Sam tries to take a step back, but his feet are stuck on the mossy ground, there are roots slowly climbing upwards, tying his feet to the ground.

“You’ve come a long way. Not a lot of people find me,” Joshua’s face looks kinder than any other angel’s Sam has met so far. His eyes are dark, almost black, and his chin and cheeks are covered in grey bristles. 

Sam doesn’t notice himself talking before he hears his own voice say:

“But some do.”

Joshua looks at Sam, analyzing his appearance meticulously from head to toe. Sam feels trapped. He looks around the jungle and tries to find Cas with his eyes. He can’t be far, he wouldn’t leave Sam alone.

“Every once a millennium someone gets lost and finds this place. I guide them on their way,” Joshua eventually answers, taking a pen from his desk and placing it behind his ear. 

Sam considers what to say for a brief while, and ends up taking the straightforward route:

“I’m looking for God.”

Joshua takes the pen from behind his ear and starts tapping the push button to the desk as he answers:

“Aren’t they all?”

Sam feels strange as Joshua keeps tapping the pen against the desk and staring at him. He feels like this is an office and he’s queueing for a form for the taxes or something.

“Does anyone find... God? Do you know-”

“No, not that I know of. The Father of all creation usually appears by his own will, you see,” Joshua sounds pissed off, but Sam decides to ignore it. 

His feet are even more stuck to the ground, the roots climbing up on his knees now. Sam feels like he’s taking too much time. And where is Cas? He needs to ask these questions for Cas.

“There has to be a way to reach him? You’ve talked to him, haven’t you? You know how-”

“No. I don’t know anything. I merely take care of his creations, like I’m told,” Joshua’s voice is powerful, it feels like it’s coming right from next to Sam’s ears, thundering by his side.

“Who tells you?” Sam keeps questioning Joshua. It’s starting to feel like an interview. Sam is a crappy journalist, Joshua a bored politician who has nothing wise to say.

“Look, child…” Joshua begins and stands up and takes a few steps to the side of his desk and places the pen on the desk.

“I’ve been doing this since I was created. I was told, that if anyone comes looking for me, comes looking for our father, I must tell them I don’t know anything and show them to their own path.”

Sam shakes his head slowly. The roots on his legs are getting looser and he lifts one leg and the roots fall off. He takes a step and the other leg is also free. The ground feels more solid than before. 

He walks towards Joshua and asks, with a quieter voice than before:

“Do you know anyone who knows?”

“No.” The answer is rude and short.

Sam isn’t convinced.

“Why did you let me come here then, if there’s nothing to gain from this?”

Joshua reaches to touch Sam’s shoulder and smiles.

“Stop searching, child. It does not take you anywhere,” he sounds kind, but his voice goes darker as he continues: “And I did not let you come here. I tried to keep you out, but you had someone helping you, didn’t you?” 

Joshua lets go of Sam’s shoulder, but Sam feels caught. He looks around, not hiding his worry anymore.

“Where are you, Castiel?” Joshua asks in a roaring voice.

Cas is nowhere to be seen. Sam hopes Cas is okay, that they can still drag both of them out of here, that Joshua won’t hurt them...

“You better call your friend here, right now.” Joshua stands next to his desk, firmly, looking around for Cas. Sam doesn’t reply, he’s hoping Castiel would take it from here, whatever it is that is about to happen.

“I want to have a little chat with your friend,” Joshua says the word friend in a way that makes Sam feel uncomfortable, “I couldn’t keep you out, but I can keep you locked in, until your friend shows up,” Joshua smiles and the roots start climbing up Sam’s legs again. 

This time they feel too tight. Sam considers his options: tell Joshua everything he knows and possibly buy time for Cas to get them out of here or hope that Cas knows what they're doing.

“I don’t know if Cas can show up,” Sam says, eventually. The roots are up to his thighs now.

“Hmm, well. I can see everything that comes to heaven, and I can see that your little helper has been here, with us,” Joshua takes a step towards the trees next to Sam, and looks at Sam, again, investigating his face, “and I can see that Castiel did not want to be seen by me.”

Sam stares at Joshua, who’s not very intimidating with his kind face. Joshua continues with a an almost whisper:

“But I need your friend to know that this little crusade of finding God is useless. So, you better call Castiel, or I will not let you out.” 

Sam knows that Joshua is just following orders. And he seems very precise about following them, even more so than any other angel Sam has met. He will follow his orders, Sam has no doubt about it.

“Cas, I...” Sam begins, defeatedly, but before he can say more Castiel is standing beside him. 

They look more broken down and tired than before. Sam’s heart skips a beat when Cas looks at him with a sad, defeated expression.

“Castiel!” Joshua snaps out and suddenly Sam can see his wings flashing and slashing as Joshua rises up into the air, “There’s our brave little hero. Looking for God, while I’m supposed to be distracted by your human, huh?” Joshua sounds bitter, almost jealous. His expression is sourer than before, as well. 

Cas is looking up to Joshua, trembling and swaying on the uneven ground.

“It’s not like that,” Cas’ voice is weary and there are visible bruises on his arms, showing from under the trench coat’s rolled up sleeves. 

The sleeves are just like they are back at the motel, where Cas stuck his hand inside Sam’s chest, to touch his soul. Suddenly Sam realizes that he doesn’t hurt, at all, although this is supposed to hurt, the touching souls-business. Maybe there’s no pain in heaven. Sam keeps thinking about the motel, he is starting to feel close to the real world, like he’s waking up, the dream is fading… If he closes his eyes, he can hear cars pass by the window behind the couch he’s sleeping, or dying, on.

“I need to know if God is out there, Joshua! So that I can stop hoping. Because if God is still alive, he’s left us, and I want nothing to do with him,” Cas implores, their eyes still fixed on Joshua, who’s higher than before, wings flickering in the air.

“Oh, Castiel. What have you become? You’re willing to risk your own life for this insignificant little voyage!” Joshua moves closer to Castiel and closer to ground, into his personal space, and thus, into Sam’s personal space. Then he continues speaking:

“Or did you simply want to take a little peek into this mortal’s heaven?”

Cas looks at Joshua but doesn’t defend himself.

“Does God live, Gardener?” Cas asks instead. The way they spit out the word “gardener” is filled with hate Sam can’t understand.

Joshua blinks and then says slowly, each word with precision: “I, don’t, know.”

Sam wants to help Cas and asks:

“Why are you following the orders if there’s a chance God’s not alive?”

“Why do all angels follow orders, child?” Joshua looks as Sam now, intensely, “Isn’t it obvious! That’s all we’re capable of doing… Like your Castiel. Did you know that his orders are… to break them? To rebel. To stir commotion. To start a war in heaven.”

Castiel looks at Cas, who looks so tired it’s wonder they’re standing up. Sam tries to think about all that just happened, to come up with some reply, but he can’t think of anything. He just looks at Cas and tries to send a message of “hang in there”. 

Suddenly Sam can feel the roots falling off from his legs and then they’re standing on solid ground again, back in the hall. 

“I guess Joshua said all he wanted to say,” Sam says at Cas. 

Cas nods, or looks down on the ground, and then immediately falls on the ground. Sam drops on his knees next to the angel and touches their face. It’s burning hot. Sam’s mind is in a million different places at once:

“Cas!” Sam is frantically touching Cas’ face and chest and then their arms and the bruises. Cas shows no signs of responding.

“Cas? Please- Cas!” Sam can feel his breath’s get more uneven as he shakes Castiel. 

He can hear and smell the motel, but they’re still here, in the white hall.

“Please bring us back, take us back, please.”


	5. religion (u can lay your hands on me)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that tone tone of this fic changes with each chapter, but that is life, I guess, never know what you'll get next. Here it is. The pining(tm) begins. Title refers to a shura song again...

Sam sees Dean before he can hear him even though he’s shouting their names. It’s bright. Sam can still hear the echoes of his own voice in the white hall. His head is pounding. Dean looks like crap, Sam thinks, and then turns to look at Cas, who is leaning against him, head against the backseat of the couch, eyes closed. There are no bruises on their arms, no visible wounds anywhere to be seen, but they’re not waking up. Sam turns to move them to a more upward position on the couch, holding on to their shoulder’s. He’s completely in this reality now, no more hall echoes in his ears.

“Cas” Sam places his other hand to Cas’ neck. 

He doesn’t know what he’s looking for, but Dean follows his lead and puts his fingers on Cas’ wrist to look for a pulse. 

“Cas, please, wake up” Sam says in a weak voice, still trying to find a pulse. Do angels even have pulses? They should, right?

Dean looks at Sam, worry all over his face. He mouths the words “what happened” to Sam. Sam can’t reply, he’s too occupied worrying over the lack of pulse on Cas’ neck. What if he’s dead? What if this is all Sam’s fault? Cas can’t be dead. 

Then, suddenly, Cas’ body twitches and Sam finds a pulse on Cas’ neck.  
Relief goes through his body in a wave of shivers. He notices now how tired his whole body is. His head is aching, legs and arms hurt, and he feels like throwing up. If this is how bad he’s feeling after their trip, he wonders how bad Cas must be feeling. Cas’ eyes are still closed, but he’s breathing evenly, now. 

They pull Cas by the arms and lift them up, and Sam puts his arms around Cas’ back and Dean does the same and they carry them to the bed that’s closest. Sam sits next to Cas on the bed and his head feels heavy. He looks at Dean and asks:

“How long were we gone?”

“About four hours. Did you find whats-his-name?”

“Yeah,” Sam lets out a deep breath, “nothing useful there.”

“Great. Well, how was heaven? Did you meet anyone cool?” Dean sounds annoyed. Or maybe he’s just tired.

“Uhh, it was. Not as interactive as they let you believe,” Sam answers and sighs.

“Okay. Whatever that means,” Dean grabs an already-opened beer from the table between the couch and Sam’s bed. He pours some of it in his mouth and gulps. He doesn’t sit down. Sam looks at this whole procedure and then says:

“I’ll tell you more about this whole thing later. I’m dead tired.” 

He yawns and stretches his back. Dean looks at him and takes a sip of the beer.

“You kinda were. Dead. Why in the fuck did you agree to this plan, anyway, Sam?” Dean walks to the other bed, places the beer on the bedside table and slumps down on his bed. 

“I really thought you would die under my watch, again. I couldn’t do anything this whole time except think about how you were dying. Right there, on that couch.” Dean sounds less annoyed, now. Sam is beginning to think he might be drunk. But not drunk as in shit-faced, but more drunk to medicate or to stay awake. Numb-drunk. He also gets why Dean is numb-drinking right now.

“I’m sorry. I had to help him, Dean. After everything he’s done for us,” Sam looks everywhere except at Dean.

“Yeah, sure. As if he couldn’t get help from some other freaks out there,” Dean spits out, half-amused, half-annoyed.

Sam gets a little upset but not because Dean is calling him a freak. He’s upset because he feels like Dean doesn’t understand that Cas is a person, who has feelings, and priorities of their own and who cares about both of them and who has sacrificed so much for them. So, he has to ask:

“Dean, what are you talking about?”

Dean exhales the word nothing out, and says quickly: 

“I deserve a few hours of sleep now… You look like crap, too.”

“Yeah. Thanks. Good night,” Sam says quietly, guessing that the discussion is over no matter what he would say next.

Dean puts on a little smile, but it looks forced and Sam feels bad. His big brother always knows how to make him feel guilty for whatever he does. If he wouldn’t have agreed to this plan Dean would’ve made him feel bad about that too, maybe not with so many words, but somehow, he would’ve managed to make Sam feel just as bad. Nothing is ever good enough.

Dean goes to brush his teeth and Sam looks around the room. The room looks so different now, like sometimes places do after waking from a dream. The couch that he just died to get to heaven on, the window above it that has blinds that have been shut, the bed with Dean’s rummaged blankets. The dim lights that shone right to the couch when he woke up. They all look different than before going to heaven. Everything looks sharp, and a little too high definition. He scans the room carefully. And finally, his eyes land right next to him, on Cas, who is sleeping or recharging right next to him on the bed. They look peaceful, still breathing evenly, eyes shut.  
For a while, he just looks at Cas, who is apparently a part of Sam’s heaven, and who just took him to heaven, as unbelievable as that is. Sam feels relieved knowing what heaven is like. It feels good knowing that he can plan ahead. Make more of those good memories so heaven doesn’t get too boring too quick.

After a while, Sam stands up from the bed and it creaks. Cas’ hands move a little and their head turns to the side which Sam is standing by. Their eyes open a little, and Sam feels a tiny burst of emotions. 

“Hey, please rest. Don’t move,” Sam hurries to say. His voice is tired and quiet, almost a whisper.

“It’s your bed,” Cas breathes out, matching Sam’s level of volume, “I can go on the couch.” 

Cas’ sounds like they’ve suffered a horrible cold and still have a sore throat.

“No, no, don’t you move,” Sam says and touches Cas’ leg gently. 

He looks at Cas’ tired face until Cas closes their eyes again. Then Sam looks at Cas’ legs, and shoes, and decides to take off their shoes. To keep the bed cleaner.  
He opens the ties slowly and quietly and grabs the shoes, one by one, from under the heel and takes them off Cas’ feet. It feels strange, because that’s an angel, that’s sleeping, or at least very tired, and who probably has never removed these clothes, because angels don’t sweat or get dirty. But here he is, taking off an angel’s shoes and it feels right to do so, because now this angel is sleeping, or recharging, or whatever, and Sam will go sleep next to them, because he’s too tall for the couch. And because Sam won’t be wearing shoes why would the angel who’s sleeping next to him wear shoes. Sam rationalizes it and comes to the conclusion that it’s completely normal that he’s taking off Castiel’s shoes. Maybe it would even be normal to remove the trench coat, but that would require manhandling Sam is too tired for.

After placing the shoes next to the bed, Sam kicks off his own shoes, and pulls off his hoodie, leaving on his socks, jeans and a t-shirt, and goes to the bed, slowly and carefully. He pulls the blanket from under Cas an inch and tries to lie down comfortably under it, feeling a tiny bit of pressure from where the blanket touches Cas.

His mind begins to wander. First, he thinks about everything heaven was, trying to relive each memory as carefully as he can. Even the ones that made him feel bad. He wonders why the memories involving Jess caused something to break inside him, even in heaven. He hasn’t been able to think about Jess much without wanting to actively die because of how bad it all feels, how guilty it makes him, but if heaven will force him to deal with those feelings, maybe it’s better to deal with them before that. Because there, the pain was overwhelming, there was nothing to distract him from it. Well, other than Cas, shouting and shaking him. But Cas won’t be in Sam’s real-deal heaven to distract him. 

Sam tries to think of ways to let Jess-thoughts back into his mind, but his brain distracts him, it’s hard to focus on one thing, he’s too tired and this is not a topic he pleasantly dwells on. After a while, his thoughts take him to the memory of the night in the car. That night Sam could’ve gone to a really dark place if Castiel weren’t there. Sam can’t understand what it is about Cas that makes him feel so much better. Maybe it’s the fact that they’re an angel, a real angel, who wants to help. So, their presence just helps, naturally. Or maybe Sam can feel hopeful when he sees a being so powerful genuinely caring and being on their side of the fight. Or maybe Cas really has a healing aura, and it’s not just in relation to Sam.

Sam thinks about how showing that memory back in heaven terrified him. It was more than just loneliness that he was afraid to show to Cas. Cas knew that he was lonely. Sam knew that Cas knew that. Cas knew everything that happened that night, that they talked about Sam’s fear and the whole true vessel -thing and everything. But Sam felt so terrified of showing that memory, letting Cas know that that memory of companionship made it to his heaven.

Sam turns on his side in the bed, now facing this celestial being, who appears to be sleeping. Sam gets that weird feeling again, that hopefulness, the shivers that go through his body, the weird turning and twisting in his stomach. The urge to smile-

_Oh god.__ _

__

__

_ _He knows exactly why showing that memory to Cas terrified him. And he knows now what this feeling meant, too. _ _

_ _He, an adult monster-hunter destined to be the vessel of frigging Lucifer, who had let him out of his cage with the help of demon blood that gave him demonic powers, was crushing on angel in a trench coat named Castiel. _ _

_Oh god._


End file.
